thinking about dale taking his time with his s/o. kissing their neck, his bulge pressing against them as he whispers dirty things in their ear while he fingers/strokes them.
“oh, i know, baby… you need me so bad, poor thing.”
“wait, wait! do you have a condom?” you moan out as you try to catch your breath, dale fucking into you from behind.
it was your first time with anyone and you wanted it to go as safe as possible, not wanting to catch anything out of paranoia. you knew dale for a while, he was a good friend but you wanted to be safe and you knew they’d respect that.
“oh, um-“ he slows his movements and clears his throat, “won’t be a problem, little angel…”
you feel him pull out and tap his cock on your asscheek, your head turning to see what was going on. it was a rubber dildo, realistic as ever with veins and all, the toy attached to a strap on. you scoff and look up at him, your eyes landing on his torso to see his top surgery scars glistening from sweat.
“oh,” you giggle and dale lets out a laugh of their own, your cheeks burning from embarrassment.
“yeah, ‘oh’,” he mocks playfully as he aligns the faux cock against your opening, dale pushing deep inside you and enjoying the phantom sensation, “that feel good?”
“yes! fuck yes!” you moan as he pounds you hard, his hands gripping your hips tightly trying to get you to cum.
“that’s it, tell daddy how good it feels,” he groans and gives your ass a slap, enjoying the view of the red handprint appearing on your skin.
you were writing in your journal and listening to your walkman while dale was working, the voices starting to get to him, calling him worthless and pathetic more than usual. tears filled his eyes and blurred his vision, the poor guy a blubbering mess as he walks over sobbing about how ugly he is, that no one loves him and that you’re with him out of sympathy. you were able to cuddle him and calm him down, dale clinging to you tightly not wanting you to move.
“you’re okay, daley,” you whisper softly, pushing his curly locks back and kissing his forehead as he lays with you, your heart sinking as he shuts down, “you want me to get food-“
“no, just want my little angel,” dale whispers back not wanting the food, his eyes closed as his mind spirals and he goes completely silent.
your grip on him tightens, you covering the two of you up with a thick blanket while babying him. you wanted dale to feel safe and secure after an episode like that, an episode you haven’t seen in a long time. you continue to hold him until he mumbles that he wants a shower, to which you fix one up for him and sit on the toilet seat until he’s finished, his comfy pjs sitting on the mattress. he’s quiet and you don’t press him, rather letting him communicate when he’s ready. he hands you his hairbrush, his eyes glossy and innocent as if asking if you’ll brush his hair.
daley just wants his little angel to baby him today.
Imagine Daley having sex with a female police officer. He was in jail for substance abuse, and she was in charge of his cell. At first, she feels disgusted by him, but Dale teaches her a lesson, and she writhes with pleasure as he fucks her hard. It's just an idea 😅
content- 70s!dale, f!reader, drugs and harassment mentioned, p in v, dale’s a creepy perv!
you were all alone and in charge of the night shift, dale staring at you from his holding cell. he was a habitual offender and always gave you the creeps, spewing out pervy comments at you or sticking his tongue out and flicking it in hopes you understood the dirty innuendo when no one was looking. you always felt bad for calling him a freak or bullying him in retaliation. you’re sitting at the desk reading your book, your utility belt off to relax some after a stressful day. you bounce your foot patiently waiting for someone to bail this freak out so he could leave.
“oh, baby, don’t look so thrilled,” dale teases sarcastically at your glum face, “come here, i don’t bite.”
you ignore him, shifting your body uncomfortably in your seat as he stares at you, his hands gripping the bars of the cells. the way your tight uniform hugged your figure, the way the buttons on your shirt strained due to your tits, it made his cock stir in his jeans. you were always his favorite lady.
“l/n, im a little… parched,” dale pipes up again desperately trying to get your attention, knowing if you denied him of any basic accommodations, he’d hold it against you in court.
“you’re a pain in my fucking ass,” you mumble as you get up, your book now abandoned as you get him a small cup of water from the nearby water dispenser, “here.”
instead of dale grabbing the water, he grips your wrist and yanks the set of keys off the belt loop of your pants, the fabric tearing as you anxiously stumble backwards.
“she loves me,” dale smiles as he flips through the keys, sticking each one into the lock, “she loves me not!” he frowns when the key he chose failed to unlock the cell. “she loves me, she loves me not!” he grabs the last key and sticks it in, the lock clicking and dale letting out a faux gasp, “oh! look at that, she does love me!”
“such a freak!” you quickly fumble with your gun as picking up the phone to call for backup seemed to be too much of a hassle, your brain not cooperating with you, and of course the damn gun wasn’t properly loaded after pulling it from your utility belt off the ground.
“where you headed to, hm?” dale grabs your wrist again and yanks you to his chest, your eyes taking in his tight face and scars, “pretty little thing thinks she’s gonna run off. always so fucking mean and nasty to me, thinks she can do whatever the fuck she wants.”
he rips the badge off your uniform and your buttons pop open revealing your big tits pushed up nicely thanks to your bra. his mouth hangs up and he looks up at you from under his brows, his cock throbbing with need. no words are exchanged as he tugs at your belt and pulls your pants down, you letting out a soft gasp as he turns you around and bends you over.
“well, well, well,” dale scoffs as he runs his hand between your legs from behind, “absolutely soaked and you have the nerve to act scared of little ol’ daley.”
you don’t have anytime to protest, dale’s fat cock deep inside you now as you’re bent over the desk. his cock stretches your pussy so nicely, his tip hitting your cervix as he pumps in and out of you deeply. he stops for a second to make sure you feel how heavy he truly is, his large hand giving your ass a spank as you bounce on him and moan like a little whore.
“next time i’m here, you’re gonna-mmfp- be nice to me, won’t you? calling me ‘nasty’,” dale says with a grunt, “might have to chain you to the cell and fuck that pretty pussy while i hold everyone at gun point and make them watch, show them who’s fucking nasty.”
a/n- u guys are getting the oneshot early! also proofread as much as i could as usual, pls forgive me LOL iykyk!!
70s!dale x gn!reader
summary- although he’s strange and makes you uncomfortable, you remain one of dale’s groupies…
content- DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT; creeper!dale, stalking, cum tributes, somnophilia, primal play, size kink, age gap kink, praising, mocking, cnc, toxic themes, threats and murder mentioned, knifeplay, bloodplay
word count- 2538
give the devil his due
your alarm beeps and you roll over to turn it off, 5 pm on the clock. you were sore and stiff, feeling like you were still drunk from last night’s events as you stumble into the bathroom, a groan escaping you as you step in something wet. you weren’t sure what it was but you continue to get ready for another night out, this time your neighbor dale was having one of his gigs at the local bar and you had to be there.
you were his little groupie.
his favorite groupie.
so much so that you and him were a situationship that only a few people knew about, dale even having the key to your house in case of emergencies. you both were into the same kinky things, his creepy behavior was never too much for you.
the warm water makes you sleepy as you scrub the hairspray out of your hair, your mind trailing off while thinking about what drink you’re gonna get and what appetizers you’re going to convince dale to buy you. you reach down to grab your body wash and freeze, your heart dropping to your stomach as you hear something in the bathroom, the sensation of feeling watched making you dizzy and your stomach start to hurt. you ignore it thinking whatever, or whomever, would ignore you, take what they needed and leave. you hold your breath and listen, someone else’s breathing directly outside of the shower curtain. you peek through the crack of the curtain bracing yourself for whomever was there.
no one was.
you felt crazy and whipped the shower curtain back, and at this point your patience was gone. there was no one. maybe you were still drunk.
you finish your shower and head into your room to get ready for the night, absolutely excited to see your friends and probably make out with dale. he was always strange, always staring at you, always offering to buy you food or drinks before anyone else could. you chalked it up to him just being a gentleman and flirting as you always flirted back, the thought of potentially dating sitting in the back of your mind, because why not? once you’re dressed and fix your hair, you go to make your bed, a photo of you taken at the bar with a group of friends and dale falls to the floor after moving your blankets. you smile until you notice the photo was covered in the same substance that you stepped in earlier.
it was cum.
someone was in your house but clearly without your knowledge. you waste no time when leaving, immediately heading over to your friend’s place to pick them up, the entire drive you explaining everything to them.
“imagine if it was dale,” they joke as there was no proof it even was him.
“ha ha, you’re so funny,” you scoff with sarcasm, “he’s weird and creepy, but he’s too sweet.”
the bar’s filled with drunks and loud music, the smell of cheap cologne and perfume and cigarettes overwhelms you as you make your way backstage to find dale, a few people talking about his performance from the night before. his door was wide open as he sits at his dressing table, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth while fluffing his curls. he makes eye contact with you through the glass and turns with a smile.
“well, well, well if it isn’t my precious little groupie!” he takes a puff of his cigarette and flicks the ashes in an ashtray on the vanity, “come here and give me a squeeze, sweetpea, haven’t seen you in a little while.”
you give him a hug as it’s true, you saw him last week but swore he was at the same bar as you the night before. he pulls away and you watch him mess with his hair some more as he turns back to the mirror.
“did you go to the velvet lounge last night?”
“no, why, baby? you see another tall, hunky glamrocker? missing me too damn much.”
“was just asking. i think i brought someone home last night and i swear i saw you.”
dale pauses and is completely caught off guard with that question, his expression cold as if you just pissed him off. he turns to look at you from over his shoulder.
“now how could i possibly go home with you if i wasn’t here?” his tone was flat and almost as if sizing up your intelligence for asking something so ridiculous, “i was at home getting my guitar and outfit ready for tonight.”
“then why’re people talking about your performance last night?”
“you sure do ask a lot of questions. quick gig and you weren’t even around, babydoll. that answer your question?” he raises a brow as he stands and towers over you, his thumb stroking your cheek, “i’ll be right back, gonna go get you a drink to loosen the hell up.”
you let out a sigh and sit at dale’s vanity, staring at yourself in the mirror while picking yourself apart. you were exhausted, your thoughts going haywire as you remembered small details from weeks before. the back door unlocked even though you locked it, trickles of piss by the toilet, things that you let go as it didn’t bother you. but the cum stains and cum tribute was enough to make you realize something in fact was wrong.
you look over and smile as you see a pile of printed out photos of dale for him to sign for ‘fans’ and groupies, you picking up the pile to look through. you fucked dale plenty of times, more times than you wanted to admit. he was a good fuck and hot as hell in your opinion. you continue to flip through and pause, the same photo that you found in your room was sitting at the bottom of the pile.
“i think maybe you should mind your business,” dale’s voice cuts through the room and you set the photos down nonchalantly, spinning the chair to look at him.
“just being nosey,” you say with a smile trying your best to flirt.
he hums and keeps staring at you, the drink that was yours he was now nursing on. he was studying you, head to toe as you sit there clearly anxious.
“i’m gonna go out here, i’ll see you on stage,” you chuckle and push the chair in, dale watching you brush past him.
“smart choice.”
he gives your ass a slap before walking out the door and you know you’re in for it, you were onto him and he knew it. you both knew he was the one who broke in that entire week including the night before. the idea of him watching you sleep, his cum on your floor and a cum tribute just for you? exciting in the worst ways.
the night goes on and you completely forget about dale, even when he preforms, you’re too busy taking shots and dancing around with friends. groups of people leave little by little and you so kindly stay back with a group of your own friends to help the bar owner clean up some, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. the friend you picked up earlier already left with one of dale’s band members which was a plus for you, no poking around and leaving on your own time now that you sobered up some. you exit the building and walk to your car, the winter air making you shiver some. you felt stupid for parking so far away but you weren’t thinking, then the thought of dale popped into your head again. you hadn’t seen him all night after the dressing room incident. and as if he could hear your thoughts, you see dale sitting in his car with the engine on and his window down, his slender fingers bringing his cigarette to his lips as he stares at you and revs his engine on purpose to scare you.
he lets out a whistle and honks the horn to get your attention after you so rudely ignored him, “hey! come here.”
you stop in your tracks and sigh, his car door opening and closing and the rocks under his boots crunching as he walks.
“yeah?” you ask turning to face him, dale stepping so close that you can smell his cologne even with the cigarette smoke in the air.
“just wanted to say sorry for earlier,” he eyes you up and down like a piece of candy, “didn’t mean to scare you, sweetpea. don’t like when my little angel’s angry with me.”
you can’t help but smile now, “wanna come home and cuddle? spend the night?”
“can’t, gotta stay back and get set up for tomorrow,” he steps on his cig and leans down to your ear, “though watching you sleep last night made my cock ach,” he whispers softly in your ear.
when dale pulls back, you look at him with a mix of disgust and disbelief, though deep down you enjoyed the fucked up voyeurism. he gives you a sarcastic look of shock as if mocking you before you rush to your car, his long legs quickly turning back to his. the entire ride home he tailgates you, his bumper so close to your ass that if you had to make a sudden stop, he’d crash into you. you pull into your driveway and quickly make it inside just in time, your eyes staring at dale through the living room window as he gets out and walks up to the door. he tugs on the doorknob and he bends down to look in at you.
“open the door, sweetpea. ain’t gonna bite.” you ignore him, dale pulling his pocket knife out and tapping the blade against the glass, “let me in…”
“dale, go home.”
he begins to whistle, placing the knife in his pocket again and pulls out a set of keys, nonchalantly picking out your house key you’ve given him. he opens the door and lets out a soft gasp to mock you.
“uh oh!” he pouts and slides inside, dangling the keys in front of your face to taunt you, “silly little goose, aren’t you? you looked so fucking pretty last night, i’m shocked you didn’t wake up to me cleaning that fat load off your face.“
“you need to leave!”
“or what?” he pulls his knife out once more and points it at you, “too much for you now? hm? my poor baby scared of their daley?”
“yes,” you whimper softly as he towers over you, dale dragging the blade down your shirt.
“oh yeah? that look in your eye tells me otherwise.” you go to protest but he somehow manages to toss you over his shoulder and take you upstairs, knife still in hand as you squirm. “such a squirmy little thing, my goodness! and now you’re bleeding,” he frowns with faux shock as you let out soft giggles mixed with insults.
you did want this.
he enters the bedroom and drops you on the bed, you removing your jeans quickly as he takes off his jean jacket and unbuttons his vest with his knife handle gripped between his teeth.
“thought about you all night,” you breathe out as you touch yourself, “love feeling so small and vulnerable.”
“oh, i know you do, baby,” he groans around the knife as he rolls up his sleeves and works at his belt, the knife now on the bed next to you, “you get so fucking needy and whiny. bend over for me.”
you get on your knees after removing majority of your clothes, blood from your small wounds staining your skin and sheets a beautiful crimson color.
“a work of fucking art, aren’t you?” dale gives your ass a few hard cracks with his hand, his hard cock jumping with excitement as you hiss in pain from his pinky ring, “ohh, felt that one didn’t you?”
“need you so bad, baby…”
he leans over and opens the night drawer roughly and grabs the lube he always uses for you, squeezing a big dollop on his fingers. you moan as he presses his fingers into you teasingly, dale groaning at your tightness as he purposefully messes with you.
“tight as a fucking virgin,” he coos, “gonna spilt you open…”
“i want all of it,” you whine as he lines himself up with your entrance, pleasure and pain etched on your face as he does so.
“greedy fucking hole,” dale lets out a groan as he bottoms out, your body taking him so well as always, “look at you! doing so fucking good already, aren’t you?”
“yes!”
“yeah? you love when old men stalk you, hm? you looked so pretty in the shower today, baby, that coconut body wash smells divine…”
your eyes roll back as he pounds into you repeatedly, the idea of him stalking you making your hole clench and your crotch throb. he was a creep but you loved when he’d prey on you, you loved when you’d catch him staring from across the room with a hard on or catch him peeking in through your bedroom window.
“want me to watch you sleep tonight?” he asks with a grunt, “stroke my fat cock without you knowing?”
no words, just moans escaping you as your bed frame slams against the wall from his thrusts. the way his cock tip hits your sweet spot and the way he was bottoming out was becoming a little too much, your moans turning into small protests as you try to squirm away.
“mmfp, dale!”
“aht aht, don’t run from it,” he grunts and pulls you to his chest, your back pressing against him and he grabs the knife again, the blade pressed against your throat, “we don’t wanna make a mess, baby… take it, you’re doing so fucking good. i’ll fuck you while you’re sleeping if you’re a good little angel for me,” he whispers in your ear, “wake up with a fat cock in that tight hole, confused and whiny as you beg for me to push in deeper…”
he rubs your blood all over your body and licks his fingers clean, the metallic taste making his cock jump inside you.
“should cut you open, have myself a little treat,” he grunts again and kisses your jaw, the knife blade cutting into the side of your neck.
“ow, fuck!” you cry out, dale pulling the knife back some before licking the side of your throat and sucking your tender flesh.
after a long night of fucking and being used and abused, you wake up without dale next to you, your body covered in cum and filled full with it. you get up gently with a wince and wrap your robe around your body, the fabric scraping against the scratches from the knife as you walk to your bedroom door and enter the hallway.
no sign of him.
you turn around to head back into your room and see the outside of your bedroom door is covered in blood, a little ‘see you tonight’ written with a kissy print next to it, dale’s knife stabbed into the wood.
a/n- wrote up a blurb for a friend! decided to share :)
content- gn!reader, 90s!dale, fluff!
dale’s stomach growls as your cooking lingers into the basement, the beautiful scents of garlic and fresh herbs hitting him. he sets his tools aside and lets out a soft groan as he stands, his body stiff from working all day and night. he unlocks the door and watches you move around the cluttered kitchen, some spots on the counter cleaned off just for the cooking process, the table completely cleaned as he sees two tapered candles set up and some roses scattered around.
“oh my goodness, look at you!” dale gasps when he realizes you’re making him a home cooked meal, “my sweetpea! all of this for me?”
“yeah! you deserve it, daley!”
he’s been surviving off oatmeal and eggs, the poor guy tired and exhausted from working all the time for mr downstairs. it’s the least you could do for him. you plate his spaghetti and meatballs, placing a piece of garlic and some salad on the side as he sets down at the table with a child-like smile. this was probably the first time in forever that he was happy, his tummy about to be full and satisfied. you join dale with your own plate and watch as he takes a bite, his eyes wide as another smile creeps onto his face.
“my, my, my! where’d you learn to cook like this?” dale points his fork at you suspiciously, teasing you of course, “my little angel knew how to cook this entire time while i’m eating saltines and peanut butter!”
“i’m glad you love it, baby,” you smile and sip your soda, dale taking a sip of his as well.
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